Slave of Doom
by Windycindy
Summary: She should have looked back. She didn't. She should have been more careful. She wasn't. And now she has to pay.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - The Harry Potter universe does not belong to me.

September 1st 1980

"You are not going to leave Hermione."

She looked at him, dejected. They had been fighting for days over this. Well, after he was done with giving her the cold shoulder for weeks. She didn't know which was worse.

"That decision is not up to you, Tom." She told him in a voice that was far too mature for someone her age. He hated when she talked like that. Like he was a child who was throwing a tantrum. Which he wasn't, not in the ways that mattered. He didn't think he had ever been a child. And she knew that. Just like she knew that he didn't like being told what to do. Least of all by her.

"This whole thing is stupid. Why would you even want to attend a dance school ? Do you want to be like those prissy old hags that we make fun of ?"

He was looking at her like he couldn't believe she would be that stupid. She hated when he looked at her like that. It seemed like they had both decided to infuriate the other as much as they could, if only to make the other see from their point of view. It wasn't helping.

"Why would you think that ? You know very well this is what I have always wanted. I have been taking lessons for years Tom! Years! I am not going to throw away this opportunity just because you said so!"

Hogwarts Dance School didn't just accept anybody. She had been preparing for the entrance audition since she had learned how to walk. Every penny that her parents had saved before they died went to her ballet classes. Now that she had a full scholarship to the biggest dance school of the country, she wasn't letting it go, whatever the cost.

He sneered at her, the hate in his eyes making her feel sick. But she wasn't going to let him get to her. Snapping her embarrassingly small suitcase close, she turned towards the door. They train was going to leave in half an hour. Mrs Cole, the matron of Wool's Orphanage, was going to drop her off. She looked at the old room where she had been living in for the past six years one last time. She had decided that she would not be returning to this place. She would stay at Hogwarts during the holidays. She could honestly say she was glad at the prospect of never seeing this place again.

She couldn't say the same about the boy that stood in the middle of the room, staring at her with every ounce of hate that his body held. She felt wretched leaving Tom alone here. God knew that he hated this place even more than her. But she knew that if given the opportunity, he would've done the same. He wouldn't have thought twice about her. She had no doubt about that.

Picking up her suitcase, she started towards the door. She looked back one last time.

"Goodbye Tom."

There was a lot more she could've said. Wished him luck, hope that they saw each other again and many other trivial things that would have only infuriated him furthur. So she didn't.

Walking out, she didn't look back. And he didn't follow.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer - The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling

August 13 1981

He gripped his wand tightly in his hands with the reverence of a lover who was touching his beloved after spending an eternity longing for them. He turned it around in his hands, inspecting very little detail. It felt pleasantly warm in his hands. His whole body hummed with the barely restrained need to use it.

His wand.

His!

It was the one thing that was his and his alone. It had never belonged to anyone before him and it never would. No one could take this away from him. No one.

And he could do anything with it. Anything at all. He could finally teach a proper lesson to that daft boy Billy Stubbs. He no longer needed to resort to crude physical means to get people to do his bidding. He could make people do anything! The thought made him grin maliciously. He could finally get back at people who had been mean to him. Who had hurt him.

Like Hermione.

The stupid girl who had left him to rot in this hellish place. She had escaped from here and never thought twice about him. The very thought of her made his blood boil. The fact that she had been able to get out of place before him used to fill him with envy. He had been better, far better than her at everything. He was more intelligent than her, stronger than her and more cunning than her. Anything she could do, he could do better if it interested him. It wasn't fair at all.

But now it all made sense. It just hadn't been his time. Not only was he intellectually her superior, it turns out he his superiority over her was ingrained in their very being. His very blood was more valuable than hers. He could do something that she could never even think of doing. His chest swelled at the thought. He wished she was here right now, just so he could see her face at the fact that he had bested her yet again. He wanted to gloat about the fact that no matter what she did, no textbook, no amount of practice could help her learn this.

Magic

The word itself sounded magical.

He had always known that he was different... that he was special. He always knew there was something that separated him from the others. And now, now he would show them all. But old Karkaroff had warned him not to tell anyone. He guessed that the others just weren't worthy of knowing it. He didn't want to waste his knowledge on these buffoons anyway. He would have told Hermione, though, had she been here. But she wasn't. The thought still made him angry. How dare she leave him ?

He would make her see one day, he decided. Make her see what happened to those who abandoned him.

December 31st 1981

She buried her hands further into her coat pockets, pulling up the wool scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck to cover her mouth and nose. Looking out at the dark night sky, she thought about the year that was soon going to end. It was almost midnight. Maybe she would make a resolution this year.

Hogwarts had been a blessing for her. The salvation she had been waiting for since the day her parents had died. The very first time she had stepped foot in this place she had known that it would change her forever. She already felt worlds apart from the girl who had left the orphanage, even if had only been a year and a half. She no longer worried about tedious matters like what others thought of her. She never had to worry about other children tormenting her. Hogwarts had very strict rules concerning bullying which she was grateful for. Not that she couldn't stand up to bullies now, but it felt good to have one less thing to worry about.

She had made some friends too. People who understood her, who liked her. People she could trust. But she knew it was all temporary. Once she left this place no one would remember anyone. She always kept that in mind. No point getting overtly attached to people who were going to leave one day. Besides, they were all competitors here. It was friendly competition but it was always there. Ballet was, after all, a highly competitive field. Only the best was left standing in the end. And they all wanted to the best. That need and ambition was what got them in this prestigious institute in the first place. Or so Madam McGonagall said.

She looked down at the snow that blanketed the grounds. She really loved snow. It was a beautiful thing. She always felt like her soul was being cleansed every time she looked at it.

Tom hated snow. He said he felt like it was seeping into his cloths, chilling him even more. But then again, Tom hated almost everything.

She knew she was one of those things now. She might have even topped his list of the things he hates most. The thought brought a sad smile to her lips. Thinking of him always did. He had a really good reason to hate her. In his mind, she had abandoned him just like his parents. But as much as she tried she couldn't make him see that it wasn't true. She had thought for a very long time whether leaving was really the best thing for her. She knew it was, of course, but then every time she looked at Tom, she would question herself. But then she realized that, had it been him in her place, he wouldn't have thought about her once. She knew that because she knew him. She knew him more than he realized. She would have left her too. And she had to think about her future too. She had been wasting away in that orphanage. Tom was a boy, he could have done anything with his life. She didn't have all the options that he did with their sub par education.

That didn't stop her from worrying about him though. She found herself thinking about him everyday, at the oddest moments. She could be practising in the studio with the other girls and his face would pop into her head for no reason. She could be looking at her roommates experimenting with makeup and she would hear him snickering. It used to drive her mad, but now she mostly ignored it.

It was his birthday today. She had sent him a letter wishing him but she had no hopes of him writing back. She wasn't that naive. He probably wouldn't even read it. That was part of the reason why she hadn't sent one last year. It would have been like fueling an already raging fire. So she spared them both the emotional turmoil that would have evoked.

She wondered what he was doing right now. Was he asleep or was he too staring at the sky, waiting for the new year to begin. She highly doubted the second. She almost scoffed out loud thinking about Tom staring out of his window, with a wistful look on his face. The mental picture amused her to no end.

He was most likely reading some new book he had stolen from someone at school. That sounded a lot more like him.

She started walking back towards the dorms as the clock chimed midnight. It was utterly silent around her. Most of the students had gone home for the holidays and the few remaining were already asleep. The watchman who patrolled the building during the night was already drunk and dead to the world, which was why she had been able to sneak out at this time of night.

Later when she was snuggled deep into her warm bed, the last thing she saw was the face of the boy with charcoal black hair with eyes to match staring at her, before exhaustion finally made her eyes flicker close.

December 31st 1981

Durmstrang Institute

"Focus Riddle, focus."

He concentrated with all his might, his wand gripped tight in his hand.

"Crucio."

He whispered it, but the conviction behind the curse was evident to everyone gathered in the room.

The fox in front of him howled with pain, writhing against its invisible binds, trying to get away.

He sneered at the weakness of the creature lying at his feet, at his mercy. How pathetic. It could get away easily if it tried, his curse wasn't strong enough yet. But no, it had chosen to succumb to the pain instead. It was truly pathetic.

"Excellent, Tom, excellent. For a first year at least. We'll practice again tomorrow."

He nodded at his Headmaster, letting up the curse. He watched as the animal whimpered a little and then fell unconscious. The caretaker levitated it and carried it out with him, probably to dispose of off.

"Good night Headmaster Karkaroff."

He turned to leave when he heard the older man spoke.

"Remember what I always say Tom. There is no good or evil. There is only power and those too weak to seek it. Are you weak Tom ?"

"No Headmaster. "

"Good. You may go now."

He nodded again and left. While walking back to his dorm room, he heard the clock strike midnight. A new year had begun.

And he knew it was going to be glorious.

His eyes flashed dangerously as he heard a loud howl coming from the grounds followed by complete silence.

Glorious indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

June 23 1982

The music flowed through her body, drenching her soul in its essence. She never felt closer to herself than when she was dancing. She had complete control over her body despite feeling like she lacked a physical form. The feeling was addictive. This must be what being high felt like. If so she could understand how an addict must feel when separated from their beloved poison.

And it was a poison. Her passion. It ingrained itself slowly but steadily into her system, to a point where she felt like it would kill her if she ever tried to separate it from herself. Not that she ever would. This was everything to her. Her dance. It was the only thing she had.

She had compromised her education for this. If this didn't work out, she would be completely lost. The thought punished her with countless sleepless nights. It scared her but at the same time it drove her towards her goal.

She didn't know long she had been in the studio. The other students had left some time ago. Looking out the window she realized that it was almost dark. She hadn't realized it had been that long. Looks like she had missed dinner again. She wasn't hungry anyway.

Grabbing her bag she started walking towards the changing rooms, wanting to get out of her sweat drenched leotard. She could barely walk, every bone in her body protesting her movement.

She swayed slightly and grabbed onto the nearest thing, which happened to be one of the barres. Her mind was suddenly attacked by an onslaught of images, one after the other in quick succession.

She saw an old man, standing at the top of rickety old stairs. The image was quickly replaced by her own. She was crying, sitting on a bed in a room she didn't recognize. The image dissolved into nothingness and was replaced by another. There was a young man who looked vaguely familiar saying something. She couldn't figure out what though.

The images stopped as suddenly as they had started and she felt someone grabbing her. She fought against the hands but stopped on hearing Ginny's voice, along her to calm down.

"Hermione, can you hear me ? I need you to open your eyes."

She hadn't even realized her eyes were closed until she opened them and felt a headache coming in from the harsh lights.

She took in the blurry image of Ginny and Madam McGonagall on their knees in front of her, worry etched into their faces.

"Miss Granger, do you think you'll be able to stand up ?"

She nodded weakly and started pulling herself up from where she had been slumped against the cold wall. As she stood up she felt herself sway again but Ginny grabbed onto her shoulders, pulling her arm around her own shoulders to support her.

"What happened ?" Her teacher asked.

Well, she would like to know too, she thought. What were all those images ? And who was that man in the cell ? And she could swear that young man looked familiar. But she couldn't, for the life of her, remember where she had seen him before. All the questions racing through her mind only worsened her headache and she cringed slightly, putting one hand on her forehead.

"I think she's tired, Madam. She missed dinner today. Again."

She wanted to bless and curse Ginny at the same time. While she had saved her the trouble of having to make some excuse for the teacher right now, she knew she was going to get in trouble for skipping meals again.

She heard Madam McGonagall sigh dejectedly from beside her and took a deep breath. Maybe that would clear her head a little.

"Miss Weasley, please take Miss Granger to her room and make sure she eats something. Grab her something from the kitchens."

She could hear the disappoint in the old woman's voice loud and clear but all she could think about was the things she had seen, or imagined, just now. But she just she knew she hadn't imagined all that.

So what was it ?

November 21st 1982

Knocturn Alley, London

He looked around at the various shops that seemed to be forcefully compressed into the narrow street. One didn't need to go inside any of them to know that nothing good could be found there. The entire place seemed of foul magic. Or maybe it was just the people. None of them looked like personal hygiene was a priority to them. A particularly ugly hag grinned at him, exposing her decaying teeth, beckoning him towards her with a twisted finger. However, she cowered back upon seeing his companion.

Fenrir Greyback inspired such fear in people. He wondered what she would do when she saw what he was capable of. The mere thought of the horror that would paint her face made him smile. But not today. That wasn't why he was here today.

Karkaroff had wanted him to meet this wizard who was an old friend of his and had, apparently, disappeared off the face of Earth for the last few years. But now he was back and he wanted Tom to go see him. Supposedly, he was a true master of the Dark Arts and could teach him things that even Karkaroff couldn't.

So here he was. Though he would have liked to come alone his Headmaster had insisted that the stinking old mutt accompany him since he had other matters to attend to. But he supposed the man had his reasons for not sending him alone. He always did.

"We are here."

He looked at old dilapidated shop with mild disdain. The place looked like it would crumble in on itself any second. He pushed open the door and it creaked loudly, almost coming off its hinges. What respectable wizard would live like this, he thought. He sneered as he took in the interior. The wizard couldn't even keep a tiny place clean, what could the man possibly teach him.

"Ah, boy, you're here. Took you long enough."

He looked up at the sound of the gruff voice and looked at the shadowy figure standing at the top of the stairs. The figure moved, or rather limped, slightly and finally he could make out the old man's face. His eyes widened slightly.

"Grindelwald"

"You are a sharp one, aren't you?

He gritted his teeth at the mocking tone in his voice but then relaxed his face, smiling charmingly at the man.

"I have heard great things about you, Sir. It's an honor to finally meet you." He said smoothly.

"Cut the crap, boy. Igor's told me all about you. You aren't here to kiss my arse. Let's get to business."

He nodded, smile dropping entirely, a cold look settling into his eyes.

Yes. Let's get to business.


End file.
